There I was, attending a large, extended family function at an expansive hotel complex off Island.
It was the morning and I had just finished my free (included with my accommodations) breakfast with the group, most of whom who had returned to their rooms already and I was still in the dining area feeling hungry for more.
A large line was forming for the breakfast buffet and I decided that I too would join the lineup.
As my time to partake came nearer I noticed that a cashier was taking payment from the people in front of me.
A feeling of discomfort arose within me. I had no means to pay. I had a tank top and pocket less skirt on; no purse, no wallet.
I left the banquet line and headed back towards my room, still hungry and feeling confused.
Wasn’t this all-inclusive?
As I walked down an outdoor hallway a short distance from the dining area, I quickly caught sight of a large, round wall clock; the face of which was fully covered by an intricately detailed, vibrantly coloured image of a butterfly or moth.
I was startled by the beauty of the wing patterns and drawn towards it. Upon my closer inspection I noticed that the moth was not a painting or image but an actual, living creature. Its antennae were visibly moving and the upper right quadrant of its wings was caught and being tattered by the second hand—trying to tick, tick, tick onward as the obviously distressed moth was trying to escape from beneath the glass covering the clock face.
A great smothery feeling arose within me. I had to help this living beauty in its moment of distress.
In an instant I had the glass covering the clock face off and as I did a great gust of wind rose up and blew the butterfly to wispy fragments. Seeing its delicate, vibrant iridescent wing patterns which had looked like Swedish embroidery only moments before, now in such disarray took my breath away.
I stepped back aghast and as I did I looked down to the floor beneath me to see a young woman lying at my feet, her long dark hair pooling around her fair skinned cheeks; her clothing, a simple tank top and white skirt, the edges of which were framed in a brightly coloured embroidery.
At first glance I thought she was gone but then I saw her eyelashes flutter over her closed eyes. I told her she would be okay and I would get water for her.
I turned to walk away and then awoke to my youngest daughter's voice in my room.
*I can’t help but have an overwhelming sense that this vivid dream came to me as a metaphor to help others see that our time of feasting at the cost of Earth and its well being is past.
It speaks to me that our time of reckoning is near but that a beautiful transformation is still possible if we are willing to heed the warnings.
The Earth is a sacred vessel and we are its beings. We need to look to beauty and silence as our guidance.
The fact that the moth/ butterfly, even in its greatest distress, was utterly silent and the only sound in that hallway was the tick, tick, ticking of the clock, also held significance for me.
This dream post reminded me just now of a favourite song of mine as a teen.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sqGP6p0mNc8
In beauty,
Jill MacCormack
So powerful.... I love the way you described to me in person about the antennae fluttering behind the glass and the girls eyelashes fluttering when you saw her on the ground..
We need to be rescued through compassion. 💕💫
Jill, with your deep feelings and extreme sensitivity, you've always been the "canary in the mine". I hope we can still save the earth.